AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18)

You’re such a slut. Your actual sexual activity is irrelevant here; I’m referring to your social butterflyism, which has multiplied to truly shocking proportions. I’m surprised you can spare a minute between phone calls, appointments, lunch meetings, texts, and e-mails to even read this horoscope. Don’t worry, I’m not going to chastise you; you’re certainly entitled to work your magic on as many people as you can. But don’t forget the joys of developing one or two relationships to a greater depth, something that’s not always possible. Since it is this week, take the time to do it &#8211; who knows when your next chance will be?

PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20)

It’s not that you’re ill-intentioned, but you’ve occasionally let semi-important relationships slip into semi-obscurity in the past. I’m sure in the back of your head you assumed that a sincere apology and a little effort on your part would repair these damaged friendships when and if you desired them in your daily life again. That’s mostly true, but occasionally there are those grudge-holders who won’t let it be that easy, like the buddy you’re about to let slip through your fingers. Don’t. It’s easier to make a little effort now than to move the mountains that will rise up between you if you let it wait.

ARIES (March 21-April 19)

Your karma’s flashing a yellow warning; you’re in danger of slipping into the kismet red zone. Your adherence to concrete reality has gotten you in trouble. Whereas you’d never stand idly by while your buddy was actually choking on a peach stone, you have let him stifle trying to wrap his head around a big, heavy issue. While he’s struggling to get air, things are piling up on his plate. I’m tempted to rush in and give him a spiritual Heimlich myself, but I don’t want you to miss this chance to repair the damage done by your inaction. Just remember; while most places (luckily) don’t actually have Good Samaritan laws (that require you to help people) on the books, the universe does.

TAURUS (April 20-May 20)

I’m relishing winter, contrary to my pessimistic predictions. Never mind the lovely spiritual metaphors the four seasons embody so perfectly; I’m digging the ritual of assuming and removing the cavalcade of layers that makes the freezing cold bearable. Something about taking off so many outer coverings has a soul-awakening side-effect &#8211; I think a few emotional barriers get carried along with, like a t-shirt static-magnetized to the inside of a sweater. May I recommend the same mini-ritual for you: regardless of the actual temperature, put on and wear for a while as many layers as you can stand. When you take them off, hopefully you’ll be just open enough to receive the sweetness that’s coming to you this week.

GEMINI (May 21-June 20)

Area 51, a remote military base, first received widespread attention back in 1947 when newspapers reported (then quickly retracted) the capture of a flying saucer (near Roswell, N.M.), and again when a former employee, Bob Lazar, described entering an alien vessel. The area around Area 51 has spawned a legion of legends and pop culture. Like the self-aggrandizing legends you’re being fed by someone longing to be close to you, this one has a conventional explanation (that the area is used to develop and test new military aircraft technology). But since the truth is elusive and unknowable anyway, why not believe in the wilder version? It’s more fun.

CANCER (June 21-July 22)

Life mercilessly dishes out moments when you feel trapped in an airless room, with a sign persistently and aggravatingly blinking EXIT over a door-less brick wall. It’s a horrible feeling, and the taunting of the non-exit EXIT sign only makes it worse. Unfortunately, there’s no secret, heretofore undiscovered way out this week. But there’s good news to accompany the bad: Just because there’s no magical escape route now doesn’t mean there won’t be sometime soon &#8211; probably sooner than you think. Hang tight, breathe deeply, and just use this chance to exercise your most hermitlike tendencies. You wanted some alone time? Here it is.

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22)

This week, the last lesson in my ongoing series, How to Survive and Thrive as a Leo in a Crazy World; Embracing Contradiction. You may not have been aware I was grooming you for any kind of degree, but you’re so close to graduating that there’s no point in getting annoyed by my surreptitious educating now. Without further ado, the lesson, summed up in one pithy sentence: Live every day as if it’s your last, and as if you have all the time in the world. As soon as you deliver your thesis &#8211; proof that you’ve at last mastered this most difficult near-paradox &#8211; I’ll happily hand over your new title, one you should wear proudly: Evolved Leo.

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22)

Getting chomped by a baby rattlesnake is more dangerous than a bite from an adult rattler. That’s because young serpents can’t regulate the amount of venom they release per bite; instead of the measured dose that a fully-grown snake would deliver. They just squirt it all out. Why am I giving you a mini ophiology lesson? Because, like a baby rattler, you’ve recently been armed with a tool that could be much more powerful than you actually need to address your current situation. Please don’t blow your wad all at once; doing so would have drastic, unintended consequences. First, you could wreak damage you never intended, and second, you’ll regret it when you need some of that magic juice later.

LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22)

The impending, troubling events you’ve been dreading are like a handful of eighteen-wheelers, all speeding recklessly towards the five-way intersection where you are. Stop praying for an airlift rescue to escape the collision; that won’t happen. Keep cool. Don’t start eyeing the sidewalk or manhole covers as possible ways out. You’re ready for this. Just put on your white traffic-directing gloves, hold your ground, wield all the authority you can muster, and you should be able to guide them all safely past this potentially devastating conjunction with no consequence more unpleasant than a breath of diesel exhaust.

SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21)

This week, you’re able to perform a metaphoric meteorological feat that will make you the envy of many more rained-on signs. You’re magically immune to snow, hail, rain, or sleet right now. Pretty cool. Also, in addition to not having to endure any of the actual foul weather, you’ve temporarily gained the ability to yank and use silver linings. One warning along with this fantastic blessing: Lest your ridiculous luck attract the attention of angry, resentful weathermen and rained-out farmers (which it almost certainly will, otherwise), you’d better share the wealth you reap, and fast.

SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21)

You make a big show of despising rules, but we both know that there are times when you desperately crave authority, limitations, and strictures. It’s terrifying to be so powerful and multi-faceted. You’d be grateful for the occasional, temporary imposition of outside control, and the safety, structure, and predictability it provides. Sometimes all dormant creativity needs to be awakened is a bunch of lines to color outside of. Thinking outside the box is hard when there’s no box, so be grateful when it appears. Accept the indignity of short-term restriction this week, and you’ll reap benefits even I can’t fully predict or imagine.

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19)

I’m sorry, I overlooked you this week. I let this slip until the very last minute. That’s what you get for being a wallflower. There are times to be a squeaky wheel and times to sit back and let things happen, and I thought you’d become an expert on determining which was which. Here’s a review. When you see a golden opportunity, get up and grab it. When someone’s looking for a scapegoat to blame, sit down and look busy. If someone already grabbed the opportunity you were too wimpy to snatch when you had a chance, smile politely and offer congratulations. And when someone’s blaming you for something that’s not really your fault (like forgetting to write your horoscope), throw it back in his face.